


Undercover, But Not Really

by astudyinotters753



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Fake Relationship, Hartwin summer secret Santa, Jealous Harry, M/M, Mission Fic, Smitten Eggsy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 10:13:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4702232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astudyinotters753/pseuds/astudyinotters753
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off a prompt for my Hartwin Summer Secret Santa.  Harry sees Eggsy getting chatted up, and decides to step in.  Or, the fake relationship trope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undercover, But Not Really

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lady_Blackadder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Blackadder/gifts).



It’s a simple mission, really.  Basic intelligence gathering for Merlin, or at least, that’s what it starts out as.  They’re half way through the dreadfully dull dinner party, and Eggsy swears he can feel his brain actively turning to mush inside his skull.  With a flick of his wrist and a quirk of one eyebrow, Harry waves him off and sends him towards the bar in search of something a bit more fun.

With a bit more swagger than he normally has and Merlin imploring him not to get drunk, Eggsy trails off towards the bar and orders two perfect martinis, his fingers tapping against the smooth, glossy surface.  “Now remember,” Merlin says, pausing to no doubt check his ever-present clipboard, “Tonight we’re looking for Michael Bonaparte.  Roughly one hundred eighty-five centimeters tall, slim build, and brown hair.  He’s rumored to be the leader of the Bonaparte mob circle that’s been manufacturing a new type of date-rape drug.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eggsy mutters under his breath, tossing a look over his shoulder at Harry, an uncomfortable feeling prickling up the back of his neck.  

“Eggsy,” Merlin continues, “it’s your job to help identify the mark and gather any and all information you can about him, the operation, and any possible stash houses they have.”

Eggsy just nods to himself, knowing the up and down motion of his glasses will convey his understanding to Merlin.  He’s about to turn and go off in search of one of the hors d'oeuvres platters being cycled around when a middle-aged man with hair the color of mahogany slides up beside him and presses a glass of amber colored liquid into his hand.  

“On the house,” the man says, shooting Eggsy a wink as he sips from his own glass.  

Instantly, Merlin goes silent in his ear, likely running facial recognition software for the man. Pressing down on the disgust that rises as bile in his throat, Eggsy manages a weak smile and a nod in return.  “Not a big fan of bourbon,” he murmurs, attempting to keep his tone pleasant.  “But thank you.”

“Keep him talking, Excaliber,” Merlin says, his fingers clacking audibly on a keyboard in the background.  “I’m having trouble placing his face.”

Beside him, the man leans closer to Eggsy, his hand coming up to rest over his drink.  “Oh, aren’t you adorable,” he purrs, his gaze intense.  “This is aged whiskey, not bourbon,” he corrects.  

It takes all of Eggsy’s newly acquired self control to prevent himself from sneering at the man next to him.  “Still not a fan,” he says, his smile turning pinched, “but thank you anyways.”

“Your loss,” the man says, flashing him a snaggle-toothed smile that was, no doubt, meant to be charming before tossing back the drink in one go.  “If you change your mind, I’d be happy to get another for you.  It’s my own blend, actually.  Best on the market here in the UK.”

Eggsy smiles so tightly that his nose wrinkles in barely concealed disgust.  “I’m sure it is,” he says, keeping his voice light.  “Bourbon is more my part-”

“I said it’s not bourbon,” the man interrupts, leaning in even closer, his alcohol-stained breath sharp in Eggsy’s nose.  “Which you’d know if you had a drink.”

Eggsy’s cheeks color at the remark and he turns, just as the barkeep slides him the two martinis he ordered.  He nods his thanks, and immediately raises one of them and sips from the rim, sighing as the familiar, floral notes of the gin wash over his tongue.  

“Almost there, Excalibur,” Merlin mutters,  “Just need another minute or two.”

“Perfect,” he murmurs, pausing a moment before turning back to the man with mahogany hair.  “So,” he starts, doing his best to smile warmly at the man.  “I’m afraid I never caught your name?”

The man offers his hand to Eggsy.  “Mark Thompson,” he replies, wrapping his fingers around Eggsy’s with a hard squeeze.  “And you are?”

“Gary,” Eggsy replies a touch too quickly.  “Gary Lewis.”

The man smiles lewdly at him.  “It’s an absolute  pleasure , Gary,” he murmurs.

In his ear, Eggsy can hear Merlin’s computers beeping a positive match for the man’s face.  “We’ve got him,” Merlin says, his fingers typing furiously on the keyboard again.  “That’s Michael Bonaparte.  Eggsy, get him to talk.”

“I admit, I do have a very important question for you,” Eggsy says, turning on his charm as he shuffles even closer to the man.  “What  is the difference between whiskey and bourbon?”

“Well, sweetcheeks,” the man says, sliding an arm around Eggsy’s shoulders.  “There’s quite a few.”  And as he starts rattling off list after list of differences and similarities, Eggsy presses against his cufflinks a few times, signalling to Harry that he’s with the mark and trying to make him talk.  Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Harry turn sharply, as if frantically searching for Eggsy.  They lock eyes for a short moment, Harry nods minutely, and then Eggsy is being swept out of the room with Michael Bonaparte’s arm still wrapped possessively around his waist.  

It is only once Eggsy has left the room that Harry’s pleasant expression drops and he tosses the rest of his drink back with a grimace.  Sighing, he fiddles with his cufflinks and makes another rotation around the room to pick up another drink before slipping out to trail behind Eggsy.

Harry hears them talking a few hallways ahead of him, the mark rattling on and on about things that, ultimately, don’t matter.  He knows that Eggsy already knows as much about spirits and liqueurs as any well-trained barkeep.  Regardless, Harry watches as Eggsy plays along and fakes his interest, asking well-timed questions and smiling warmly to silently urge the mark to continue babbling.  After a few minutes of periodic tailing, Merlin links their coms together, and Harry can hear every word in Eggsy’s conversation. 

“Yes, it’s true, my whiskey is becoming a favorite in upscale bars around the London area,” the mark drones, his voice grating and unpleasant.  “Sales have been steadily climbing, and I do say it’s all to the secret ingredient.”

“And what would that be?” Eggsy breathes, smiling warmly at the man.

“Well, sweetcheeks,” the man continues, sliding his hand down towards the swell of Eggsy’s ass.  “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret, now would it?  But a bright lad like you, well, I’d bet you’d be able to figure it out if you had a taste.”

The man’s words make the hair on the back of Harry’s neck stand up.  “Excalibur,” he murmurs, knowing his words will be heard, “Don’t take the drink.”

“But keep him talking just a bit more,” Merlin chimes in.  “I’ve almost got a copy of the blueprints ready.  Then you can proceed with the next step.”

“I really don’t like whiskey,” Eggsy protests, attempting to keep his smile pleasant.  “But thank you for the offer.  That’s incredibly kind of you.”

The mark leers at Eggsy and pinches his bum, pulling a displeased gasp from Eggsy.  “Anything for a sweet boy like you,” he croons, leaning in to press an unwanted kiss to  Eggsy’s neck.  

Eggsy flinches and squeezes his eyes shut, a pinched off groan stuck in his throat.  

Taking the noise as a sound of pleasure, the mark chuckles darkly into the side of Eggsy’s neck and begins to trail kisses up his jaw.  A few feet behind them, hidden in an alcove, Harry grimaces and sees red.

“We have the map.  Excalibur, you’re done,” Merlin whispers.

Eggsy’s response is instantaneous.  “Please stop,” he says, pushing the mark away while attempting to placate him with a false grin.  “My partner is around here somewhere; he’ll be wondering where I’ve gone.”

The mark furrows his eyebrows and frowns at Eggsy.  “Your partner?  I thought you were here alone?” he asks, snaking his other hand around Eggsy’s waist.  

Eggsy shakes his head.  “No,” he answers, trying to pull away.  “Harry’s a very jealous man, and he’ll be so cross if he finds me here.”  

The mark sighs and bends to press one more lingering kiss just under Eggsy’s earlobe.  “It’s your loss, my dear one,” he murmurs, pulling away with sneer.  “If you change your mind, I have an office here with plenty of  supplies .”

Eggsy shivers in disgust but nods his head anyways.  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, his voice pinched.  

“Arthur,” Merlin barks in Harry’s ear.  “That’s your cue to save the boy.”

Harry nods and strides forward to slide his arm around Eggsy’s waist.  “There you are, darling,” he says, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of Eggsy’s mouth.  “I’d wondered where you’d gone.”

“Hello, Harry,” Eggsy murmurs, smiling brightly at the older man.  “Mr. Thompson here was just educating me about whiskey.”

“That sounds riveting, love,” Harry says, pausing to check his watch.  “Oh blast, it’s nearly half nine.  If we wait much longer, we’ll be late.  Don’t want to leave the sitter alone with Daisy for much longer.”

“Right, well, if you’ll please excuse us,” Eggsy says, turning to face the mark once more, “we need to be getting home.”

The mark’s jaw drops as Harry leads Eggsy away, his eyebrows furrow as Eggsy leans heavily into Harry with a sigh, and a squawk of indignation escapes his lips when he sees Harry pause to kiss Eggsy once more in the hall.  The two continue on their way at a moderate pace, their bodies relaxed against one another’s as they go.  Eventually they exit the building, climb into their getaway car, and drive down the street.

Three blocks away, they circle back and park in an adjacent lot as the screen embedded behind the driver’s seat flickers to life with Merlin’s face.  “Gentlemen,” he begins, his face shrinking to a small box in the corner as a copy of the building’s blueprints pop on the screen.  “Bonaparte’s office is located on the third floor, towards the back of the building.  Your best bet is to either attempt to come in through the ceiling, or work your way up the fire escape.”

Harry takes a moment to lean forward and study the plans further, his finger mapping out potential entry and exit points.  “We’ll go up the fire escape,” he murmurs, tapping twice against Bonaparte’s office.  “Sneak down the hallway, raid his office, and make our way out to extraction in the side lot here,” he punctuates his words with another tap of his finger over the empty lot they’re currently parked in.  

Merlin nods from the screen.  “From the information we’ve gathered, Bonaparte is lacing his whiskey with a new, modified version of Rohypnol, so grab as many bottles as you can.  If we need a full scale raid, I can call in Lancelot and Bedevere, however,” he says, pausing to look Harry in the eye for a long moment.  “I needn't remind you that it is essential we emerge undetected.  Securing this information will give Interpol all the evidence they need for an arrest warrant.  Do not make a mess of this.”

“Roger that, Merlin, Sir,” Eggsy says, giving him a mock salute.  

Merlin rolls his eyes as Harry stifles his chuckle.  “Charming,” Merlin drawls, fixing Eggsy with a stare that would make lesser men wither.  “Just get in, get the booze, and get out.  And for God’s sake, don’t get caught.”

Harry nods sternly and powers down the screen.  Then, with a small, slightly tired smile, he guides Eggsy out of the car and towards the fire escape with a hand on his lower back.  They climb up a few flights of stairs as quietly as they can, and Harry manages to spot an open window on the second floor, just a few feet off of the stairs.  

“I’ll climb in and get the other window open for you, Harry,” Eggsy says, shucking his jacket and tossing it towards the older agent.  “You just sit tight, and keep looking all handsome and shit,” he adds with a cheeky wink.  Before Harry can protest, Eggsy has climbed up on the metal railing and has shuffled over a few windowsills, as if it’s the easiest thing he’s ever done.  A short moment later, Eggsy is unlocking the large window by the fire escape, and Harry is stepping inside, eyes scanning for potential guards, routes, and of course, the mark.

They get halfway down the hallway, heading for the staircase, when Eggsy hears a pair of guards shuffle near the corner.  “Arthur, Excalibur-” Merlin starts.

“Taken care of,” Eggsy interrupts, pulling Harry into one of the hallway’s alcoves to press their faces close.  “Do you trust me?” he whispers hurriedly.

“With my life,” Harry immediately answers.  

Then, without missing a beat, Eggsy reaches up, wraps one hand in Harry’s tie, threads the other through the strands of hair at the nape of his neck, his fingers stroking at the soft skin there for a moment.  He takes a breath, wets his lips, and pulls Harry down into a breathtaking kiss, his hand fisting around Harry’s tie.

Harry’s lips are slightly chapped and warm as they move against Eggsy’s.  Much as he tries, the angle isn’t quite right, and after a short moment, Harry pulls away.  “Oh darling,” he whispers sweetly, “allow me.”  

Eggsy barely has a chance to hear Harry’s words, much less make sense of them, but it doesn’t matter.  Harry’s hands rise to cradle Eggsy’s face, thumb stroking over his cheek and neck.  He tilts Eggsy’s head just so and rejoins their lips and  oh ; this is unlike any other kiss Eggsy has had in his life.  

Harry’s mouth slides wetly along his, and Eggsy’s eyes flutter shut as Harry’s tongue sweeps out over the join of his lips.  Eggsy sucks in the tiniest breath, Harry’s name muddled in a breathy sigh in his throat, and then Harry is kissing him deeper, swiping his tongue over Eggsy’s, and it’s all he can do not to have his legs give out underneath him.

He’s not quite sure when the guards pass, but when Harry pulls back, there’s no sign of anyone near them.  They take a moment to right themselves, Harry smoothing his skewed tie while Eggsy attempts to regain his breath and focus his mind.  Then, before he’s really ready, Harry is guiding him to the stairs with a hand to the small of his back.  When they finally reach the third floor, Eggsy is certain that his cheeks must be on fire.

They find Bonaparte’s office easily, and make quick work of the lock and security system.  Merlin re-joins their coms and helps them find the stashed whiskey in a fire safe under the desk.  They’ve just picked the lock when the door handle to the office jiggles as if someone is struggling with unlocking it.  Thinking fast, Eggsy tosses a wink at Harry and dives under the desk just as the door opens.  

The mark strolls into the room and stares blankly at Harry for a moment before shutting the door behind him with a particularly raucous kick.  “What are you doing here?” he asks, his face blanching.  

“Ah, yes,” Harry says.  “I seem to have lost my partner.  Have you seen him by any chance?”

The mark smirks at Harry.  “Of course I haven’t.  If I had, I’m sure he’d be here with me now,” he sneers.  “He didn’t seem so committed to you earlier, the way he let me get up close and personal.”

Harry’s friendly persona drops at the mark’s comment, his soft smile falling into a stern glare.  “I wouldn’t say things like that if I were you,” he warns, straightening up properly.  “It might make me cross.  And you won’t like me cross.”

“I’ll take my chances,” the mark continues, stepping forward to crowd Harry back towards his desk.  “I think I can take an old man like you.”

“Well,” Harry mutters, “I can’t say that’s the  best  decision you’ll ever make.”

The mark swings his fist forward, throwing a punch at Harry’s head.  Harry dodges it easily and side steps the other man entirely.  The two continue to fight in the same manner, the mark charging Harry, who gracefully evades each swing.  After a while, Harry sees Eggsy pop up from behind the desk, a bottle of whiskey in his hand.  

“Oi!” he shouts, drawing the mark’s attention just as he swings it down and cracks it on his head.  

The mark stumbles back, hands rising to wipe frantically at his eyes.  “You’re in on this, too?” he splutters, reaching out blindly as if he wants to throttle Eggsy.

“Of course I am.  I did say Harry was my partner, yeah?” he retorts, rolling his eyes.

Beside him, Harry sighs and raises an eyebrow at Eggsy.  “Oh, darling,” he murmurs, the corner of his mouth raising slightly.  “I do hope you’ll forgive me for this.”  Before Eggsy has a chance to respond, Harry throws a punch at the mark, a satisfied grin cutting across his face as he feels the mark’s nose break under his fist.  

The mark lets out an ungodly screech and teeters back and forth on his feet.  Sensing an opportunity, Eggsy saunters up to him, winks cheekily, and pushes gently on his sternum, causing the mark to lose his balance and fall backwards.  “C’mon, Harry,” Eggsy says, ducking under the desk for the rest of the tainted whiskey.  “Might as well get rid of these, yeah?”

“In a moment, my dear,” he replies, straightening his suit once more.  “There’s something I simply must do before we go.”

“And whazzat?” Eggsy asks, joining him once his arms are full.  

“This,” Harry breathes as he crosses the room.  Just as he did some half hour before, Harry raises his hands to cradle Eggsy’s face, pausing just for a moment before leaning down to press their lips together.  

This kiss is chaste compared to the others, yet Eggsy melts into it all the same.  When Harry pulls away, Eggsy whines at the loss, his body leaning in to follow Harry’s retreating form.  “Why’d you stop?” he whispers, staring up at Harry.

“Because,” Harry begins, “we need to make a delivery.  Any longer, and I’m afraid we’ll end up meeting back-up.”

Eggsy nods and trails out of the room behind Harry, still slightly dazed from the unprompted kiss.  He feels his stomach flutter and his heart clench as his mind whispers that it’s possible that Harry actually returns his feelings, that maybe, their days of dancing around each other are over.

They end up taking the getaway car back to the tailor shop on Savile Road, their journey punctuated by increasingly uncomfortable silence.  As he always does, Harry tips the driver with a small bundle of cash and a nod of his head.  He exits the car without saying anything, and walks into the shop without checking to see if Eggsy is following.  

Frustrated, Eggsy stomps inside and follows Harry down to board the bullet train to headquarters.  He first secures the whiskey in crates supplied by Merlin, and then takes his seat opposite Harry, fixing the other man with a pointed stare.  “Are we gonna talk about it?” he asks, nudging one of Harry’s feet with his own. 

Harry continues to avoid Eggsy’s eyes and flippantly replies with, “Talk about what?”

Eggsy sighs and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.  “Ya know,” he says, his leg bouncing with nervous energy, “the fact that you kissed me when you didn’t mean to.”

One of Harry’s hands balls into a fist where it rests stiffly on the arm rest.  “I do apologize, Eggsy,” he says quickly.  “I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“Harry,” Eggsy says, reaching forwards to rest his hand over Harry’s clenched fist.  “You didn’t make me uncomfortable.  I was jus’-”

“Just what?” Harry prompts after a short moment, finally turning his head to look at Eggsy.

“I was just hoping it meant something,” Eggsy finishes, feeling his cheeks blaze with the admission.  

Harry stares at him for a long moment, blinking slowly as he works through Eggsy’s words.  “Oh, darling,” he says, his eyes going soft.  “Of  course it meant something.”

“Really?” Eggsy breathes, squeezing around Harry’s hand.

“Really,” Harry confirms.  “Eggsy, you must know by now that you are completely irreplaceable to me.  I’m not sure what I would do if I lost you.”

“Well,” Eggsy says, rising from his seat to crouch in front of Harry, “you ain’t gonna lose me, Harry.  I ain’t going anywhere.”

Harry smiles at him and reaches a hand to cup his cheek.  “I’m very glad,” he says, stroking his thumb over Eggsy’s lip.  “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to kiss you again.”

Eggsy beams at him and presses a quick kiss to the pad of his thumb as it passes.  “I don’t mind at all,” he says, letting his eyes drop to Harry’s mouth.  “In fact, I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

They arrive at headquarters nearly a half hour later, their lips swollen and hair slightly mussed.  Eggsy is carrying the crate of tainted whiskey, and Harry is walking alongside him, his hand resting on the small of Eggsy’s back.  “Late again, Arthur, Excalibur,” Merlin drones as they enter his office.

Eggsy shrugs and sets the crate down in the middle of Merlin’s office, resuming his place at Harry’s side when he’s finished.  He knows Merlin is about to give them the lecture of a lifetime, but he can’t help but think it’s worth it, for the entire time Merlin rants on about their mistakes, Harry’s hand is warm and steady in his.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to apologize for having this be so darn late. I misread the due date, and well, at least it's in before everything's posted on September 1st! I hope you've all enjoyed this. (Especially you, Lady_Blackadder, whom I believe the prompt is for!)


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